


Oblivion

by Ann84



Category: The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann84/pseuds/Ann84
Summary: Flashes of grey images enveloped his thoughts like the flashbacks you see in movies, dull, shaded around the edges and void of color, forcing him to remember every moment spent together, trying to understand how they got to where they were.





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> I’m in the process of writing another Barry/Snart fic but this popped into my head and I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s a total distraction and was done in less than an hour so _very_ poorly written but it demanded to be created. So yeah.  
>  Kinda thinking of making a companion piece for this once I've got my other story finished. Idk, well see.
> 
> Song:  
> I Found  
> by Amber Run

_I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind_

Flashes of grey images enveloped his thoughts like the flashbacks you see in movies, dull, shaded around the edges and void of color, forcing him to remember every moment spent together, trying to understand how they got to where they were.

Blue eyes that radiate amusement like his should have been warm and inviting but when directed at him they always seemed to hold a look cool distraction and it was the starkest part of the memories, the one thing with the most clarity. His moniker had more accuracy than anyone other than him could realize, those eyes could freeze him to the spot, fill his veins with ice and in contrast, send a heat racing through every inch of him that was filled with anger, resentment, hate… desire.

_And I'll use you as a focal point  
So I don't lose sight of what I want_

The first time-- that first night-- plagued him the most. The night he’d let his primal feelings take over, having never experienced them before he knew now that he never stood a chance. Not when he’d grown up knowing he was nothing like what others wanted, never the object of desire, always the nerd in the corner. 

And there was this man who had stood there, taunting him like he was actually something to look at, all focus on him, like nothing else mattered. Promising him unimaginable freedom with coy looks. Promising him a normal moment without the pressure of all this hero business. A moment to just be free. 

Those hands, hands that killed countless people, had caressed his body like he was a stolen gem plucked from its display case. Fingers that pulled triggers that ended lives, that destroyed worlds, brushed over his skin _opening_ new worlds created just for him. Some small dark part of him had shivered at the thought and had him drawing those blunt fingertips to his mouth, wanting to taste the power in them, wanting to sample the souls that had been damned by them. 

And he had _known_. Those cool, belying eyes had stared down at him seeing every thought and every dark desire in him and his lips had tilted up in a way that others would have called mocking but all he could see was the message behind it. _I see you_. There was no hiding from this man.

_And I've moved further than I thought I could  
But I missed you more than I thought I would_

He hadn’t been gentle or slow. Nothing like the first time you read about in books and are told to expect. He _took_ with words and actions that only countered gentleness, forcing him to ride out the pain, challenging him to call it to a halt. Making him feel every inch, every agonizing stretch while he watched with clear, perceptive eyes. 

And when he didn’t, when he took what was given to him without pause the other had leaned down and licked the tears that had slid unknowingly down his cheeks and showed him the next phase of their act. 

He’d been lost. He’d never felt something as exquisite as pleasure from pain. His body had betrayed him taking his mind with it. He’d arched and moaned and _writhed_ under the man’s touch. His skin had felt like it was burning and the only relief came from the hard body above him. The man that whispered filthy things into his ear while he pillaged his body, the man that could pluck the strings of his arousal like he’d been built just for him. 

When the light exploded behind his eyes and he laid limp, impossibly cool hands and bent him further, diving deeper, harder with a hand at his throat and a look that he could only imagine someone saw before their lives went dark and moaned at the danger behind them. Because that was what this man was. He was dangerous. A killer. Someone who could snatch the life from you without remorse. 

And he’d wanted to be destroyed by it. 

_And I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind_

He knew he’d been lost after that, after it was over, when those skilled hands ran through the evidence of his release cooling on his stomach and dragged them up to spread over his cheeks, his mouth, in a blatant show of degradation, and his lips parted just the way the man had expected them to, to taste the freedom he’d been given. He knew then that he would do this again and again and again just to feel that short moment of abandon. 

And he did, even though he tried to stay away. He kept coming back and damned if the man did make him feel exposed every time. He was frozen each time he came, staring at the man with barely veiled desperation, sometimes guilty and angry for wanting someone like him so fiercely, awkwardly standing there waiting for an acquiescent and then stumbling over when it was given, to fall into the criminals arms. 

Suddenly his body was a canvas of colors and designs left behind from their meetings. Bruises, bites, scratches from blunt nails, they all healed so quickly, his powers making them disappear before he was ready, and he had found himself tormenting the aggravated areas just so they would stay a little longer. After they faded, it wasn’t long before he’d be back silently asking for more and was always obliged.

When they met outside of their secret exchange it was like standing on broken glass. Moments where he felt that the other man would say some damning comment that revealed everything to those around them. Sometimes there were comments that hinted, that made him hold his breath, waiting for everything to shatter around him but no one caught on, the thought of them being anything more too farfetched, too ridiculous. Always he would stand there smirking because he knew what he was doing. He knew how it made him tense. He knew that with the tense feelings came the desire to be free of them. It was a circle that he kept spinning just for him and he strangely followed along like a lost puppy.

He suspected it gave the other man some disgusting thrill as well, engaging with Joe and Iris, and all his friends and none of them aware that he’d had their, son, sibling, friend, _hero_ , begging to defile him in every sordid manner the other man could imagine. How he’d crawled on all fours to give hungry licks up the criminals shaft just because he was _told_ to. How he’d _melted_ at having a killers hands on him, moaned like a whore when he’d entered him, keened at the words whispered in his ear. It was shameful but exhilarating and he couldn’t get enough of it.

 

_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  
Right in front of me  
Talk some sense to me_

He doesn’t know when things began to change between them but the first time he noticed it was the night he skidded to a halt in one of the many rundown warehouses the man liked to frequent, broken and desperate to forget his life, forget everything. No one had been there and thinking back it had been a lucky thing. He’d had no suit, no protection for his identity when he raced in causing dust and papers to flutter in the draft that came with him. 

He’d stumbled back to the room that the he had become familiar with, the room that smelled and felt and practically screamed _him_ and, tearing his clothes off so his skin could touch the sheets the other man’s had, curled up on the old bed, under thick blankets that his scent clung to and willed himself to believe that the blankets around him were thick arms trapping him in their safe oblivion. 

He isn’t sure how long he had been there when he heard the door click open. He had ducked his head further silently begging behind closed eyes that he wouldn’t be turned away and his anxiousness grew with each second that the man stood at the doorway. Even though his back was turned and he was hidden from the view, he knew he stood there staring and in the silence he heard the door softly click shut and easy footsteps walk to the bed. The covers were pulled away from his head and fingers carded through the hair at his forehead. His eyes were screwed shut, not willing to face anyone yet but with a quiet demand they popped open to face the other man. 

He’d expected the cold mockery he usually received, the condescending look of someone who thought he was being dramatic, not the blank, thoughtful stare he was greeted with. He must have known, probably heard it over the police radio he listened to. Once again the hero had saved the day, had defeated his foe and saved his city but not before countless people had died. 

Because he hadn’t been fast enough. Because he hadn’t been clever enough to find a way to fight his enemy and keep the people he was protecting safe. 

He _had_ to have known. He _had_ to have seen it. This man that saw everything had to have known the deep unrelenting, unimaginable pain he felt at his failure, the need to make it go away.

He’d just silently watched him before stepping back to remove his own clothes, crawling in next to him, and maneuvering him to his side to tuck his head under the strong chin, holding him tightly to his chest. 

The first sob had bubbled out before he’d realized it was building up, opening a tsunami of anguish over his failure. He’d just held him, brushing those cool fingers over his spine, quietly letting him pour his pain out to drip onto his chest. 

And as he was just on the cusp of sleep he thought he’d felt warm, smooth lips on his forehead.

_And I'll use you as a makeshift gauge  
Of how much to give and how much to take_

After that night there was a silent shift. They came together the same as always but differently. There was something new between them and he reeled with it. The heat of their exchange had turned from a raging fire to an easy, mellow burn. The filthy things whispered to him seemed to have an underlying tone that spoke of reverence, the cold eyes that looked at him were outlined with something close to affection, the demanding kisses were softened with just a touch of tenderness. Neither rushed to leave the other and when they met on the streets an understanding had developed. Like water they moved with each other, flowed into the other with ease, letting whatever it was they had developed evolve into something more. 

He was drawn from his thoughts at a presence behind him. As he stood there in the dark, staring out the window at the Central City lights trying to make sense of what had led them here he felt the air around him pop with current that was not of his making and without turning around, knew he was standing in the archway, naked, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. 

He could feel the other’s eyes on him, taking in the healing evidence of their most recent interaction, the bite on his shoulder tingled and the finger shaped bruises on his hips ached. The marks made him feel unrestricted, like he wasn’t in charge of himself, and in a way, that was every bit the case. When he was with the other man he submitted in ways he that he never thought he wanted to. When they were alone the man standing behind him was his spine, his brain, his everything, because he didn’t want to think when they were together he just wanted to let go, let someone be the stings to his puppet. 

_I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind_

He turned at the quiet words urging him to come back to bed. He stood there exactly how he’d known he’d be standing, with the moon casting shadows against his frame with his head cocked to the side. His usual aloof demeanor dampened by sleep but no less perceptive. He looked at him like he could see his thoughts and his lips tilted in a soft smirk before holding his hand out to him. 

There was no need for more encouragement as he padded over and silently placed his hand in the calloused hand held out to him. 

As he was drawn into the other man’s arms and his head was tilted up to receive a soft, lazy kiss, he realized that he didn’t care what this was, he didn’t care where this would lead them as long as he was always kept in this man’s warm, unrelenting embrace.

_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  
Right in front of me  
Talk some sense to me_


End file.
